


Resolve

by withoutwords



Category: Days of Our Lives
Genre: 2nd person POV, M/M, PWP
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-16
Updated: 2013-04-16
Packaged: 2017-12-08 16:20:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 426
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/763457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/withoutwords/pseuds/withoutwords
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brian said once, about Will, that there's more than one way to screw someone.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resolve

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this is not the day that I write a story with substance. Just, you know, sex.

You wonder if this classifies as some sort of sickness, to want and want and want someone and hate, hate, hate them too. You wonder about the sweaty palms and faux fever; the way your heart beats out of control and your mouth goes dry. You wonder if it is love, or lust, or just something he does because he’s a Horton.

“Will,” you say, like a wound, open and aching. “Will, will you, would you, just fuck me already, please,”

“Soon,” Will promises, and despite the threadbare fabric of all his other promises you know he’ll come through. “Just let me …”

You do, all the time, _just let him_. You’d seen the lies in his gaze and along the dip of his chin and around the back of his neck where all the freckles are. You’d seen his lies, like stars, a whole fucking Milky Way, and you’re lost in it, all of it. Lies, and webs, and endless drama, and you’d bear it all, wear it, if only he stayed here, stayed always. 

“Please.”

You fought so hard to be this Sonny, to be what you see is what you get. You fought for the Brian Life, for climbing rocks and flying flags and right and easy and ‘normal’. You fought your need for Will, before he loved you, when, and after; you fought the truth for so fucking long and you won’t do it anymore, you’re done.

“ _Please_ ,”

“Alright, it’s alright.” Will brings your knee up, his face in, his body hot and skin soft and cock teasing at your thigh. His mouth is wet and his tongue rolls out to taste you there and you groan and pulse and heave. 

“Sonny,” he says, seeps to the bone, two wet fingers fucking into you. Brian said once, about Will, about how there’s more than one way to screw someone and you get that. Laid out naked, sweating, and feeling like the amateur; begging for something, absolution. 

“Will,” you cry, sharp edged, and he kisses at your open mouth and pushes inside you and soon he’s breathing air into you, like trying to end you and revive you all at once. 

“Will,” over and over because you thought you never would again, because he’s right where he’s meant to be, with you, inside you, and you’re arching for him and clawing at flesh and his breath is warm against the shell of your ear.

“Mine, always mine,”

You fought so hard to be your own man, but you’re done fighting now.

You’re done for.


End file.
